


After Hours

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets. [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sexual Content, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4187802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I really <i>did</i> forget something,” Isaac says quietly, thumb just barely brushing against the side of Scott’s hand.  “But now that we’re in here…”  He trails off and Scott can hear how his heartbeat changes slightly, beats a little faster in something that might be nervousness or excitement.  </p><p>“There’s no one else here,” Scott murmurs, moving his hand so that it’s draped over top of Isaac’s.  “We could, if you want to.”  Even with the building empty, it’s a bad idea but as soon as Isaac smiles, Scott knows there’s no going back. </p><p>Isaac has a way of talking him into things without saying a single word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hazelNuts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/gifts).



> written for the [Secret Wolf Exchange](http://hjksecretsanta.tumblr.com/) as a present for [fandom-madnessess!](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/) i'm not sure where this idea came from, but it takes place sometime during season 3A (in a universe where Harris doesn't get killed). I hope that you enjoy! <3

By the time Scott feels clean enough to turn off the shower, the rivulets of water running down his back are nearly freezing. 

He’s not sure how long he’s been under the spray, washing off the sweat, blood and dirt that goes hand in hand with every lacrosse game. He spent at least a minute scrubbing his knees, but they’re still tinged green from sliding across the rough field. After he grabs his towel, he scrubs at them again, but to no avail. 

He’s starting to think that he might have grass-stained knees for the rest of his life. 

After he’s toweled off his hair, he stops and listens for a moment, head cocked slightly. He’s the last one in the showers and as far as he can tell, there’s only one person still in the locker room, heartbeat slow and steady, familiar. Scott’s not surprised that almost everyone else has already left; half the team usually go home to shower and Stiles had peeled out right after the final whistle, muttering something about a hot date with Derek. 

He’s also isn’t surprised that the only person left in the locker room is Isaac. 

When he walks out, towel tied around his waist, Isaac is sitting on the nearest bench, head tilted back against his locker, long legs stretched out. He’s already dressed, in a loose pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. His hair is still damp, curling against his forehead and just above his ears. 

“I was starting to think you drowned in there,” Isaac says, hint of a smirk playing around his lips. 

“Not quite,” Scott replies easily, idly brushing his fingers along Isaac’s shoulder as he walks by. “Sorry I took so long. You didn’t have to wait.” Isaac shrugs, turning away as soon as Scott touches the knot holding his towel up. It’s nothing Isaac hasn’t already seen but Scott understands; old habits die hard. 

“I don’t mind,” Isaac says. “Besides, I forgot something in Harris’ class earlier.” Scott stops midway through pulling his jeans up his legs and glances over at Isaac. After a moment, Isaac looks up and although his expression remains totally neutral, Scott is still pretty sure that there’s a glint in Isaac’s eye that wasn’t there before.

“Alright,” he grins, going back to getting dressed. “Just give me a sec.” 

As they walk down the hall, Scott listens carefully, all too aware of the warm feeling spreading through him every time Isaac’s shoulder or hand brushes against him. He can catch a few heartbeats, but they’re all faint. He can’t hear any footsteps beyond their own and even Finstock’s office is quiet, like he left early. As far as Scott can tell, him and Isaac are completely alone in the school. 

With that realization, he can’t help but walk a little bit faster, eagerness thrumming all the way down to his fingertips. 

Harris’ classroom is empty, but the door is unlocked. It’s still light enough outside to see by and as Isaac heads towards his assigned table, Scott stays at the front, leaning against Harris’ cluttered desk. Isaac ducks under the table but he stands up only moments later, frowning slightly. 

“Shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I left my textbook here. Harris must have taken it with him.”

“You can borrow mine,” Scott replies. “Probably go faster if we work on it together.” Isaac nods and comes back to the front of the room, but he doesn’t go towards the door. He stops in front of Scott, so close that Scott can feel the warmth roiling off Isaac’s body. Slowly, his hand reaches out until it’s right beside Scott’s, curled around the edge of Harris’ desk. This time, there’s definitely no mistaking the glint in his eyes. 

“I really _did_ forget something,” he says quietly, thumb just barely brushing against the side of Scott’s hand. “But now that we’re in here…” He trails off and Scott can hear how his heartbeat changes slightly, beats a little faster in something that might be nervousness or excitement. Scott is sure that his own sounds much the same. 

“There’s no one else here,” he murmurs, moving his hand so that it’s draped over top of Isaac’s. “We could, if you want to.” Even with the building empty, it’s a bad idea but as soon as Isaac smiles, Scott knows there’s no going back. 

Isaac has a way of talking him into things without saying a single word. 

“Yeah, I want to,” Isaac grins. “Definitely.” He steps forward, closing the space between them and Scott automatically reaches up, tangling his other hand in Isaac’s still-damp curls. All it takes is a slight tug for Isaac’s grin to turn into a gasp. Scott tugs a little bit harder but whatever noise Isaac makes in response ends up swallowed between them. Isaac always kisses like he’s starved for touch and Scott can’t help but kiss back like it’s the last chance he gets. He slides his free hand into the back pocket of Isaac’s jeans and in response, Isaac’s teeth press into Scott’s bottom lip. He moves even closer, backing Scott against the desk, completely caging him in. His thigh is pressed between Scott’s legs and Scott feels like he’s going to burn up, like the world has completely narrowed down to the points where Isaac is pressed against him. 

It’s a terrifying feeling and he loves every moment of it. 

By the time Scott breaks away to breathe, he’s pretty sure that his hair’s a mess of unruly spikes. The line of the desk is digging into his back but he ignores it for the moment. Instead, he brushes his thumb over Isaac’s bottom lip, swollen and red. 

“Still good?” he asks quietly. When Isaac grins, his teeth look a little too sharp to be fully human. 

“Absolutely,” he replies. His hands drop to Scott’s hips, smoothing along the hem of his t-shirt. “Is the building still empty?” Scott stops for a moment to listen. It sounds like there might be a rat scurrying through a nearby air duct but other than that, they’re still alone. 

“Completely empty,” he says. Isaac sighs happily, eyes noticeably gleaming more gold than blue. He doesn’t speak, he just moves and Scott meets him halfway. There’s an awkward moment where their teeth clash together but once Scott turns his head slightly, everything falls back into perfect sync. He slides his hands up the back of Isaac’s shirt, brushing over warm, smooth skin. Isaac’s fingers dig into his back, right above the band of his jeans and for a few moments, Scott thinks of turning around, of unbuckling his belt and letting Isaac slide his fingers lower. 

He just barely manages to shove the idea into the back of his mind. He doesn’t dislike Harris _that_ much.

The next time Isaac’s teeth snag on his bottom lip, Scott groans and rolls his hips forward, pushing against where Isaac’s thigh is pressed between his legs. Isaac gasps and pulls away, forehead braced against Scott’s, fingers twisted in the hem of Scott’s shirt so tightly that Scott expects it to rip at any second. Isaac rolls his hips forward as well and it’s all too obvious how hard he is. But it’s not enough for Scott to _know_ that; he needs to feel it, needs to touch Isaac more. 

“There’s something I want to do,” Isaac says quietly, breaking off into another gasp when Scott’s nails dig into his back. “Been thinking about it for awhile.” 

“What is it?” Scott asks, heart beating even faster. He can hear Isaac swallow, can hear the uptick in his heartbeat. He slides his hands out from underneath Scott’s shirt before he speaks, voice low and smooth. 

“I want to go down on you, while you’re standing there.. If that’s okay.” Scott groans and pulls Isaac down into another kiss and when he pulls away, he feels like the world is spinning, like he might topple over if he lets go of Isaac. 

“Yeah,” Scott says, in between pressing more kisses to Isaac’s swollen mouth. “That’s definitely okay.” Isaac nods and drops his fingers, skirting them along the button of Scott’s jeans. Scott knows what Isaac’s waiting for and he nods as well, brushing his lips along the line of Isaac’s jaw. 

“Got for it,” he says, hardly recognizing his own voice. Isaac pops the button open and drags the zipper down. The sound seems loud as thunder in Scott’s ears and he tilts his head back, letting his eyes drop shut as he brushes one hand over the back of Isaac’s head. He feels like he’s just barely on the right side of control and he takes a few deep breaths while Isaac’s long fingers slide his jeans down to his knees. Isaac leans down and runs his mouth down Scott’s neck, pressing a hard kiss to the underside of his jaw. His hands skim down Scott’s thighs and as they curl into the waistband of his boxers, Scott takes one last moment to concentrate and listen. 

The school is still empty and with that confirmation, Scott stops paying attention to anything outside the walls of the classroom. 

Isaac slides Scott’s boxers down before he drops to his knees, hair stuck to his forehead, twisted into unruly knots from Scott’s hands. Isaac’s fingers trail from his knees up to his hips, burning hot as coals and Scott’s hands tighten, one in Isaac’s hair, the other around the edge of Harris’ desk. Isaac’s mouth follows his fingers and by the time his lips brush against the inside of Scott’s thigh, Scott can feel the desk creaking underneath his fingers, threatening to crack. Abruptly, just as he’s resigned himself to having to find some superglue after they finish, Isaac pulls back, mouth twisted into a frown. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands still wrapped around Scott’s knees. “I thought this would be easier.” 

“Everything okay?” Scott asks, brushing his hand over Isaac’s hair again. 

“Oh, everything’s fine,” Isaac replies, laughing slightly. Even though it’s gotten darker in the room, Scott can still see the dark blush staining Isaac’s cheeks. “I’m just too damn tall.” It takes Scott a moment to realize what Isaac’s talking about; all the other times that Isaac has gone down on him took place in a bed. Height was never an issue. But now, from where Scott is standing, it’s clear that, at the very least, Isaac is going to end up with a cramped neck. 

“Later then,” Scott says. He grabs a handful of Isaac’s t-shirt and tugs gently, pulling him back to his feet. Isaac’s skin is blazing hot under Scott’s thumb when he rubs it against Isaac’s cheekbone and he can’t help but smile a bit. Scott’s pretty sure that _he_ should be the one blushing, seeing as he’s standing in his chemistry classroom half-naked. 

“Later,” he repeats. “If you still want to. But for now…” He wraps one of his hands around the back of Isaac’s neck, tugging him close. He rests the other on Isaac’s hip, inches away from his belt. Isaac makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat before he smirks and pushes Scott’s t-shirt up to the bottom of his ribs. 

“I like how you think,” he says, running his hand back down Scott’s stomach. His fingers just barely brush over Scott’s cock and Scott bites back a groan. He yanks Isaac’s belt open and pops the button on his jeans hard enough for it to fly across the room. Scott feels his cheeks turn red but Isaac just laughs quietly, pushing at his jeans with his free hand. 

“We’ll find it after,” he says, fully wrapping his hand around Scott. “Or maybe we’ll leave it for Harris as a present.” 

“We’ll find it,” Scott says, swallowing Isaac’s gasped _fuck_ when he slides his hand inside Isaac’s boxers. 

It doesn’t take long; even with the momentary pause, Scott feels tight as a tripwire. Every little thing Isaac does, every gasp that falls from his lips and every kiss he presses against Scott’s mouth, runs through him like electricity. The desk is pressing into his back again, digging in whenever Isaac thrusts up into the circle of Scott’s fingers, but even if the bruise it’s leaving wasn’t going to immediately heal, Scott doesn’t think he would care. 

There’s sweat gathering on his chest and slicking his fingers. The air is so thick with the smell of want that when he takes a breath, he nearly chokes on it. When he leans up into a messy, bruising kiss, he catches the taste of blood on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know who it belongs to, but it’s what sends him tumbling over the edge. He holds onto Isaac’s shoulder, gasping against his mouth, eyes closed. He’s only vaguely aware that Isaac is rapidly murmuring, smearing words along Scott’s cheek and down over his neck. His hips continue rocking forward and by the time Scott regains some of his clarity, Isaac is coming, teeth wrapped around Scott’s earlobe.

Scott has a feeling that if he steps away from the desk, his legs might give out on him. So he stays put, forehead braced against Isaac’s, panting for breath. His shirt has fallen from where it was rucked up around his ribs, but he can’t be bothered to worry about it getting dirty. He’s pretty sure that he needs another shower anyways.

Maybe the hot water will have come back by now. 

But when he takes a moment to listen, he groans. Sometime while him and Isaac were busy, the janitor seems to have arrived. Scott can hear footsteps somewhere above them, can hear the creak of an overloaded cart. 

“What’s wrong?” Isaac asks quietly, lips brushing against Scott’s upper lip with each word. 

“The janitor’s here,” Scott says, absently brushing some of Isaac’s curls away from his face. “I was going to suggest another shower. Together, this time.” 

“Well, there’s lots of hot water at your place,” Isaac says, thumb brushing over Scott’s hip. “And we should still have at least an hour until your mom gets off shift.” 

Scott can’t pull his jeans on fast enough.

&.

As soon as Scott walks into Harris’ classroom the next day, he can’t help the warm flush that spreads across his face.

Sure, it doesn’t look like anything out of the ordinary happened. Isaac had found the button for his jeans, laying underneath the radiator on the other side of the room and they had gathered up the papers that they’d managed to knock onto the floor. But as soon as Harris steps behind his desk, he stops and frowns down at it. When Scott squints, he realizes that there are scratch marks on the edge of the desk, standing out stark white against the dark wood. 

“Shit,” he mutters. Harris’ hand snaps up at that, eyes narrowed in a vicious glare. 

“What was that, McCall?” he asks. 

“Nothing, sir,” Scott replies, forcing a semi-convincing cough out of his throat. “I just have a cold.” 

“You weren’t cold last night,” Isaac murmurs from Scott’s right. This time, when Scott coughs, it’s for real. 

“Something to add, Mr. Lahey?” Harris snaps. Isaac shakes his head. 

“No, sir,” he replies. Although he’s talking to Harris, he’s looking at Scott, mouth furled into a smirk, eyes glinting golden in the sunlight.

“Nothing at all.”


End file.
